


The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

by Marks



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Dance Dance Revolution - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-14
Updated: 2006-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2953778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

**Author's Note:**

> Tezuka/Oishi are so manga canon. Or past canon. Or _something_. This takes place at the end of Oishi and Tezuka's second year.

Oishi stood apart, just watching as a crowd gathered near Tezuka. Not that he could blame them for congregating. There was always a lot to look at once Tezuka got going: agile split steps, footwork that looked blurred to the untrained eye, complicated twists and bends, and an unwavering concentration written out in beads of sweat running down his face and disappearing into his collar.

Then the song ended.

The crowd applauded, then started breaking up when it became clear Tezuka wasn't about to play another round. Oishi stood at Tezuka's side, a step below the elevated platform.

"Not bad," Oishi said, grinning at Tezuka's score. "An A on Heavy. Almost all perfects, too."

"Almost?" asked Tezuka, his voice a bit -- but only a bit -- strangled and winded. Oishi noticed Tezuka's hand was over his eyes.

"Two greats," Oishi confirmed.

Tezuka's shoulders tightened, and when he pulled his hand from his face, Oishi could see he was frowning.

"Hey, it's nothing to worry about." Like Oishi was one to talk. "Itou-buchou will be very proud of his soon-to-be-successor."

"Itou-buchou," Tezuka repeated, stepping down from the dance pad. Two girls in tight pink sweaters and heart-patterned skirts really too short for Dance Dance Revolution immediately took his place. They giggled and waved at Tezuka, then proved a moment later that they had absolutely no rhythm.

"Let's go," Oishi said, tugging on Tezuka's sleeve and hefting up Tezuka's tennis bag along with his own. "Come over. My house is closer, and you can use the shower."

They left the arcade in near-silence, but that was pretty much par for the course when it came to Tezuka. Oishi sometimes thought he divided his time between Kikumaru and Tezuka just for the sheer novelty of the contrast, but the silence this time seemed like a heavy weight pushing down on them and Oishi wasn't quite sure how to drag Tezuka up and out from it.

Stupid, easily manipulated Itou-buchou, and stupid Yamato-buchou, too, pushing his ideas on Itou until they were all doing what Yamato wanted in order improve Seigaku again, even though Yamato wasn't in junior high anymore and even though Itou was a sitting duck captain, now the only third year left with only a few remaining weeks of school. But it didn't matter. Now Oishi had a tropical fish to care for, like he was some kind of mama fish, and Tezuka had to play a perfect game of DDR before Itou would hand the club over to him. For agility, Yamato-buchou had said. For speed.

"Playing tennis makes me agile," Tezuka muttered under his breath as though reading Oishi's thoughts. "Tennis makes me fast."

Oishi didn't reply, just let the backs of their hands brush together.

He suspected all of this was Yamato-buchou's idea of fun; he just wasn't sure _whose_.

\---

"Wait," Oishi said when they got up to his bedroom, stooping down to root through his bag. He pulled out a box of chocolates wrapped in shiny red paper and done up with an elaborate white bow, and handed it to Tezuka.

Tezuka stared at it. "Oishi --"

"Oh! No, it's not from me! Tanaka-san from Class 3 asked me to give it to you on her way out. She said she was too shy."

"Ah." Tezuka's mouth was set in a very straight line as he carefully placed the unopened package in the center of Oishi's desk and went into the bathroom. Now it was Oishi's turn to frown.

Whatever they had between them, whatever they were...well, it wasn't as if Oishi objected exactly to Valentine's Day, but it was a girls' holiday, something he'd finally convinced himself of after standing in front of a display of cards for a full twenty minutes.

Oishi left the package where it was as he settled on his bed, pulling out his math text, notebook, pencil case, and graphing calculator one by one. He smoothed out the bedspread around him, and looked at his long list of assignments, fervently wishing they'd complete themselves.

Tezuka reentered just when Oishi had finally opened his textbook, and Oishi glanced up just long enough to do a double take and look down again. And stayed looking down. Tezuka only had a towel wrapped around his waist, and even though Oishi had probably snuck glances at him in this state of undress dozens of times, it hadn't ever been in his own bedroom with his parents and sister not at home, and never with Oishi twisting his bedspread in his hands in a desperate attempt at hormone wrangling.

Tezuka had splotches of red from the heat of the water on his shoulders and all down his back. Oishi blushed and became very interested in his calculator once he realized he'd been staring again.

"Oishi."

Oishi lifted his head, halfway terrified and halfway hoping that Tezuka had completely lost the towel.

He had. And had gotten dressed. Oishi started breathing again. Doing...things with Tezuka was good. Exciting and scary and still a little nerve-wracking, but good. But nudity was another thing entirely.

Tezuka dragged his bag onto the bed as he settled beside Oishi. His hair was damp and curled around his ears and forehead, and before Tezuka found his eyeglass case and slipped the wire frames back into place, Oishi thought about how young he looked.

Not like Tezuka. Just like some kid, like Oishi.

He should have gotten Tezuka a card.

"What would you like to do?" Tezuka asked. Oishi knew he meant their homework, but every part of him -- his brain, his heart, his body -- all seemed to shout _Kiss him!_ in unison.

"Trigonometry!" he blurted, then closed his eyes to stop himself from swearing.

Tezuka pulled out his math book.

"Do you need help with the assignment?" Oishi asked. Tezuka nodded, and they spent the next half-hour going over complementary and opposite values, while Oishi took every opportunity to touch Tezuka's hands or press their shoulders together so by the time they'd completed the last problem, their thighs were pressed together and their ankles tangled.

Oishi sighed. Tezuka put his books aside and carefully reached over to pull Oishi's textbook from his lap, throwing it aside with a soft _whump_. Tezuka stayed.

"No more homework?" said Oishi. He was smiling.

"Not for now," Tezuka confirmed.

"Ah. Back to the arcade, then?"

"No." Now Tezuka was smiling, too, a little.

Oishi's eyes fluttered shut as Tezuka's mouth pressed to his, soft and warm and wet, maybe a little too wet, but good. They hadn't done this often, but every time they did, Oishi wanted it again and more of it, too. He got his hand into Tezuka's hair and Tezuka opened his mouth just wide enough for Oishi to slip his tongue inside. He circled his tongue around Tezuka's, licked Tezuka's bottom lip, and fell back on the bed dragging Tezuka on top of him.

He was pretty sure his protractor was digging into his back, but he couldn't bring himself to care with his leg between Tezuka's thighs and Tezuka's leg between his. Oishi's face was warm and he shuddered every time Tezuka moved. He thought about how Kikumaru had said something about guys needing girls to restrain them, like Eiji would know or something, but Oishi guessed that maybe was why they could never hold back.

Or maybe because Tezuka never held back with anything, and Oishi could never deny Tezuka something he wanted.

They rocked together, and Oishi pushed his hands underneath Tezuka's shirt, tracing his spine and thinking of red patches that were still burned into his mind. Oishi nudged Tezuka's face to suck at his neck, to lick his jaw, to bite his earlobe.

"Oh," said Tezuka. " _Oh._ "

Oishi let that wash over him as he arched up and caught Tezuka's mouth again. He wasn't something Tezuka disliked, or even something Tezuka just tolerated; Tezuka _liked_ Oishi, maybe even liked Oishi the way he liked tennis.

Tezuka's tongue was pushing into his mouth, over and over, and they were moving together, faster, and Oishi kept hearing these little noises that sounded weird out of his mouth, but hot out of Tezuka's. He rolled them, then Tezuka rolled them again, then there was a crash, and they were clutching at each other and everything went white for a second. Then Oishi was panting and they were in a heap on the floor.

"We're on the floor," Tezuka observed.

Oishi lifted his head. "I guess we fell." The water in the aquarium sloshed dangerously, and the floor was hard under his back, but not as bad as the protractor. His limbs felt too heavy to move.

He hoped his parents hadn't gotten home yet. Or his sister. Oishi cringed, but stopped when Tezuka shifted until he was tucked under Oishi's arm. He pressed his face into Oishi's collarbone, and Oishi thought about how Tezuka might want to shower again. Well, he had tissues in his room that might be okay, too.

They lay there in silence as Tezuka traced the ladder of Oishi's ribs through his shirt. Oishi pretended Tezuka was counting them, until it tickled too much and Oishi was in danger of getting turned on all over again.

"What are you thinking about?" Oishi asked.

Tezuka's fingers stopped. "Next year."

"Nationals."

"Never playing that game ever again."

"Oh, I see how it is," said Oishi with a laugh. "Tezuka-buchou is already considering his siege of power and the glorious reign that follows."

Tezuka's shoulders moved in a way that might have been a laugh, or not. "No one will dance when I'm captain."

"Not even if they want to?"

"Not even then."

Oishi pictured Eiji and that freshman Momoshiro trying to keep still by order of their buchou, and bit his lip in order to keep himself from laughing. He didn't reply, though; Oishi knew when to pick his battles.

He sighed, content, and wrapped his hand around Tezuka's wrist.

\---

"Did you want to stay for dinner?" Oishi asked, once they'd cleaned up. "We could finish our homework afterward." _And do this all over again._

"All right," said Tezuka. Then he opened his mouth, and closed it again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Oishi was immediately concerned. "Tezuka, what's wrong?"

Tezuka looked pained, but took a deep breath and walked to his tennis bag. He pulled out a wristband, the kind he always wore, and a black permanent marker and a clipboard. He gave them to Oishi, not quite looking him in the face. Oishi's eyes widened.

"Those are for you. For when you're vice captain." Tezuka met Oishi's eyes again, and even though the tops of Tezuka's ears were pink, Oishi was nearly knocked over by the intensity of it. "When you're my vice captain."

Oh. Oishi felt terrible. "I don't have anything for you," he said.

"It doesn't matter," Tezuka replied.

"Yes, it does." Oishi placed the clipboard on his bed and slid the wristband on. It felt good around his wrist; constricting, but not too much. Just enough so that when Oishi wore it, he would always know it was there.

He uncapped the marker and grabbed Tezuka's hand, then wrote **One National Championship** on Tezuka's palm.

"That's my gift to you," Oishi said. "My promise."

Tezuka drew his hand into a tight fist and didn't say anything, but that was enough for Oishi.

"My parents will be home soon. We should probably go downstairs," said Oishi. Tezuka nodded, and as Oishi shut the door to his room, he decided his fish needed a name. It was his duty to look out for it, after all.

\---

Tezuka beat three levels with perfect scores the next day. In celebration, Oishi distributed an elaborately decorated box of Valentine's Day chocolate to the crowd, then crumpled the empty box up and threw it away.

\---

Oishi named his fish DDR. Tezuka didn't mind.


End file.
